


This Child and I

by Turtle_ier



Series: Turtle's MCYT AUs [13]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Family, Family Dynamics, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Happy Ending, Humor, Implied Relationships, Kid Fic, Potions, Potions Accident, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28433661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turtle_ier/pseuds/Turtle_ier
Summary: It happened when Phil was out collecting wood.Techno had been reluctant to let them go, he always was since he knew how Phil became so well known, but the piglin could recognise that Phil was hardly a push over either, so he still went alone. What neither of them considered was Techno being the one in danger.Aka, Phil never planned to become a father but sometimes your friend gets hit with a de-aging potion and you just have to deal with it
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Turtle's MCYT AUs [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875367
Comments: 42
Kudos: 613





	1. Chapter 1

Contrary to popular belief, Techno, Wilbur and Tommy hadn't been born into Phil’s care, and he hadn't actually met any of them until they were adults. 

Wilbur was first, coming to him to ask about a competition they had both been invited to, and Phil had latched onto the other man’s side more so than the other way around, since where Wilbur was charismatic and knew what felt like everyone in the game lobby, Phil was very much a small fish in the big sea. Wilbur hadn't commented, and instead dragged him around to meet everyone he knew, and then mutually they met everyone they didn't know. 

Which included Techno. 

Techno hadn't been… friendly, per say, but it wasn't an unfriendliness either. He was shy, which was hilarious considering the implications of the reputation he had gained, and while he was polite enough, he nor Wilbur saw much of him. 

Only when Phil and Techno had been asked to team did they really become friendly, with Techno taking his sword and Phil his axe to chop their way to first place. A record breaking first place, he might add, and Techno hadn't said anything. He just nodded.

And then the next week Techno stuck by Phil’s side and let him do the talking. 

Tommy was an interesting one, mostly for finding the three of them and declaring himself the youngest sibling of Phil’s sons immediately, despite Phil tilting his head and asking who his other sons were. Wilbur had just laughed, and Techno flushed from ear to snout and stormed off, but Phil asked why. 

Turns out, he was the only one who hadn't seen the found family dynamic, and it turns out Techno and Wilbur just hadn't commented on it. 

Techno was embarrassed, of  _ course _ he was embarrassed. The blood god, an adult pig-man who was feared and loved alike, had accidently been pseudo-adopted by a guy not even twice his age. Phil didn't mention it – the implications of how Techno had acted was enough for him not to comment, since he didn't know much about Techno other than his farming habits and tendency to spill blood. He just let Techno accept or deny the rumour at his own pace, which the pig seemed to appreciate.

But now Wilbur was technically dead, or half dead since he was still around (he’d come back, he was just being dramatic), and Tommy was elsewhere, and he and Techno lived alone in relative isolation. Their own little wasteland, thousands of blocks wide, and it was just the two of them in a house together. 

It happened when Phil was out collecting wood. 

Techno had been reluctant to let them go, he always was since he knew how Phil became well known, but the pig could recognise that Phil was hardly a push over either, so he still went alone. What neither of them considered was Techno being the one in danger. 

The first thing he noticed was the smell, then it was the empty house, and third were the sniffles coming from somewhere else in the building. 

The smell was of aniseed, like when Phil had experimented in making cookies with liquorice a few weeks ago, and something else lingered in the air like the sugary-rich smell of a golden carrot. Invisibility potion, Phil thought, and his shoulders sunk when he realised Techno had probably gone on one of those solo-missions to be dramatic. Again. 

He sighed and put the axe on the crafting table, wandering over to the chests and dumping his freshly chopped wood into one of the ones without the food in. Techno had a bit of a habit of dumping stuff wherever it fit, filling chests to capacity with no room to breathe and with anything wherever, but Phil had been trying to be methodical about it since they had moved in together.

It wasn't going badly, necessarily, but it wasn't going well either. These midnight trips to pester what was left of Manburg were one of the things Phil had meant to bring up at some point, but as it stood he’d have to wait until tomorrow now. 

The sniffing noise came from somewhere else in the house again, and if Phil hadn't been in total silence he might have just thought it was the cow, called Bill or Bob or something, but it didn't sound like it was deep enough. He looked over to the ladder leading downwards, where there were some false panelling disguising their beds (shoved together – it tended to get cold out there in the wastes) and the ender chest sucking in air from the barely contained void within it. He listened closely, first hearing the fireplace, the cow in the distant basement, and the chest all at once, but then the sniffle noise came again. 

Now, Phil wasn’t tactless. He wasn’t heartless or mocking or uncouth, but if Techno was there, invisible or not, then there would only be two ways to handle the situation. He thought about what the piglin had told him about his past, about his three siblings falling in combat or disappearing all together, and about his comments towards his parents. Many of the things Technoblade acquired over the years had been hard-earned, with luxuries not being taken for granted. He remembered when Tommy had complained about still being hungry, even with all of them having a single baked potato each, and how Techno had handed the younger man what was left of his before Phil could do the same. If Techno was in there, crying, sick or injured, there were only two ways Phil could go about it. 

He could ask what was wrong, possibly upsetting the proud piglin and making him assume Phil thought less of him, or ignore it and not provide the comfort Techno may have desperately needed. 

Another sniffle, Phil went from foot to foot, but when another sound, one more akin to a whimper, came from their hidden beds he had made a decision.

“Techno?” he said, quietly as if he would scare the warrior off, “are you alright mate?”

No response. The sounds of crying had stopped, and with the door to the outside still open Phil could tell that the odd-smelling potion may have finally been leaving the room. If Techno was invisible it might make it more of a trial to comfort him, but then again, the piglin might find it better to not be seen in his state of weakness. 

“Do you want to talk?”

No response.

“Or I can go? If you want me to. There’s, uh, there’s always more wood to be chopped, I guess. Uhm.”

He could hear movement behind the bed panels, shifting of fabric, and as Phil almost looked away and went to leave, a hoof, far smaller than Techno’s own, pulled one of the panels aside. 

A piglin child looked at him with its small face and big eyes, and Phil blinked at the sight. Its clothes were far too big, red and blue in colour, and with white ruffles around the collar of the cloak and the edges of the sleeves. He could see on the bed behind the piglin that there was a crown half buried in the sheets. 

Suddenly the smell made sense. 

“Oh no,” Phil said at the sight of Techno, and he hoped that the de-aged piglin wasn't nearly as aggressive as his older self was. 

Phil had learnt three things

  1. Piglins imprinted, in the same way ducklings did
  2. Piglins, at least when they were children (although, Techno may just be a special case) tended not to talk
  3. Piglins were _heavy_



The second and third came into effect when, after explaining as best he could (which was tough when the pig didn't respond) that the two beds weren’t just for Techno, he had tried to get to sleep with the piglin child laying half across his chest. It wasn’t a comfortable night, but at least it was warmer than when Techno had suction-cupped himself to the opposite wall lest, god forbid, they accidently brush sides in the night. If Phil had to guess, this smaller-Techno was probably around the same weight as him, which was a terrifying concept when Phil was easily two or more feet taller than him now.

But now it was morning. Techno watched him from the bed, wrapped in clothes, blankets, banners and any other fabric they owned, as Phil tried to figure out what the piglin could wear. 

“How’s this?” Phil asked, holding up an old pair of leather boots, but when he looked over at Techno he realised that they’d probably go up to his thigh, so he put them back into the chest without insisting he try them on. 

Techno had stopped crying after Phil had sat down next to him the night before, but that was where the first point came into effect, the one about imprinting. When the other man had gone outside in the night to do, uh, business, the piglin had followed him out. When Phil went downstairs, Techno watched him from the ladder, his floppy ears falling down below his head. And when Phil had gotten out of bed to cook, the child watched him with keen eyes as he went to and from the stove, putting corn, hash browns and eggs in the hot pan. He didn't feel uncomfortable, per say, but something about the too-big eyes tracking his every move was unnerving, to say the least. 

But while the food was cooking it allowed Phil to explore his least favourite pass time – dress up.

“How about this?”

It was a pair of socks, fairly long but hopefully warm enough, and Phil hopped that if it came down to him dressing the piglin child himself that it would at least be an easy process. So far, getting Techno to stay in the sheets and not run around in the nude had been hard enough, but he could almost tell that trying to put clothes on the feral things was going to be a trial.

Domestication wasn’t his strong suit, so sue him, but it wasn’t like he’d ever expected to have interactions with a feral pig child at the ripe old age of thirty-two. 

He didn't expect to be a parental figure to a feral piglin child either, but what can you do. 

“Is that a yes or a no?”

Techno looked at him. His big, dark eyes were wide open like he was trying to take in as much of the small room as possible without blinking, and when Phil stood up and took a step closer, Techno didn't back down. He wasn't shy then, at least not around him, but again that might have just been the imprinting. 

“I don't know if you understand me, but I’m going to put one of these on your legs, okay?”

Phil knelt in front of him, looking up for any sign of the child understanding him, and he almost whooped and jumped for joy when Techno very slightly nodded. Gently, he pulled one of Techno’s legs from the bundle of fabric and put the sock on him, reaching around his knee before he ran out of fabric. As soon as he let go of the leg it shot back into the fabric, and without asking, the other leg came fourth. 

At least now he knew that Techno could sort of understand him; it would be easier, he thought. 

“Eret.”

“Oh, hey Phil!”

“Eret, please listen to me. I need you to put me in contact with anyone who has experience with children.”

He could hear Eret lean back in his chair, although, it could have been Techno getting up to who-knows-what with the skeleton downstairs. Phil rubbed his temples, feeling the headache coming on, and the cold air coming through the broken window probably didn't help with the matter either. Techno hadn't been happy when Phil put a pair of shoes on him earlier. 

“Uhm,” he sounded awkward through the radio, “Phil, honestly, if anyone else had asked I’d put them through to you.”

Phil put his head to the table with the radio on it, and yep, there was definitely the noise of the cow being in distress now, too. Eret waited for him to say something further, and with his forehead pressed to the woodgrain he did. 

“I’m having some problems,” he said through gritted teeth, “and I need a second opinion.”

“Have you adopted a fourth son?”

“I don't have any children. Now do you know anyone or not?”

There was the sound of Eret clicking around, checking though who was around their radio and who was unavailable, before he spoke up again.

“There’s five other people online,” he said, “and Tommy has a younger sibling, I think. Was that Tommy or Tubbo?”

“That’s Tubbo. Don't put him on.”

Eret sighed, “Okay, uhm, There’s Hbomb, he might be okay-ish since, well, maybe he won't be, actually. There’s Quackity – “

“Oh god, no.”

“Right, right. And the only other people, other than them and me and you, is, well.”

Phil let Eret linger on the pause. It was nice to have the brief moment of silence. 

“Schlatt’s online.” 

“Schlatt’s dead.”

“He’s still online though, and, well, don't quote me on this but isn't Tubbo kind of in the same situation as Tommy was with you? Only difference being that Schlatt’s probably a terrible father, to be honest. I mean, he had his own son, maybe son,  _ killed _ , so – “

“Yeah, put me through to him,” Phil said just to get Eret to stop talking, and Techno’s head and equally sized ears came through the hole in the floor. Phil made a show of smiling at giving a little wave. Techno showed off the skeleton’s still moving skull. 

“Put that back, Techno,” he said.

“You bossin’ your kid around?”

“He’s not my – Schlatt. I have a problem.”

“Yeah, me too. I’m in the void right now since I’m, you know,  _ dead _ . What have you got that compares to that?”

“Techno encountered a white witch.”

“A white what?”

“A white witch. They’re like normal witches, dealing with potions and whatnot, but they tend to curse people instead of trying to kill them. It’s like revenge or something.”

“So what did they do to Techno? Is he like ten inches tall or somethin’?”

Schlatt laughed at his own joke, but Phil didn't have the patience to let him finish his cackle. 

“He’s younger.”

Schlatt stopped laughing.

“Like a baby?”

“Like, I don't know. I haven’t had a kid, let alone a piglin. I don't know how old he is.”

“Is he talking?”

“No, but he seems old enough that he  _ should _ be. He definitely understands me.”

Thankfully Schlatt seemed to be taking the situation a bit more seriously now, and Phil nearly let out a sigh of relief at the realisation since it meant he might actually be getting somewhere with this. The man made a sound over the radio, and Techno came back upstairs to show him that he’d put the skeleton’s head back. Phil gave him a thumbs up as he knelt beside the radio (they should really invest in some more chairs, or at least a stool or something) and Schlatt started talking again, his voice grainy from the void. 

“So you never had kids?”

“No, have you?”

“I sort of,” Schlatt paused, “I met Tubbo when he was five.”

“Did you adopt him?”

“Not really. He followed me around a bunch, called me ‘Mistah Schlatt' with that dumb accent.” 

Techno came and stood beside Phil, and before the older man could say anything the piglin put his hoof in Phil’s hand. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't covered in mud, but as it stood, Phil just sighed. 

“Is your blood god giving you trouble?”

“I know how to fix it,” Phil said, “But I’m not sure what to do with him in the meantime.”

“Take him with you.”

“I’m sure that’s a great idea Schlatt but Techno is the most wanted person on the server.”

Schlatt laughed, “As if he wouldn't hesitate to kill any fucker he comes across. You really think Techno grew into that? Probably not. The guy was probably born into a vat of blood, pickled in it.” 

“He’s not been particularly aggressive so far,” Phil sighed, and Techno came and tried to get into his lap, even though Phil groaned with the added weight. Time to lie down, Techno had apparently decided for him, and Phil had never needed to pay so much attention to the fact that he had to breathe. 

“Has he seen anyone but you?”

“No.”

“Well, take him to see someone else, someone you know you can take care of if it comes down to it, and set him loose. Shit, I’d pay to see it, you know, if I wasn't  _ stuck in the void _ and all that.” 

“And what do I do about him not talking?”

“Well, he understands you, doesn't he? That’s good enough. Don't force him into talking if he doesn't want to. Kids are weird like that, they don't respond to adult nods and prods, so just… yeah. They might as well have their own damn language. Just take things by his time, explain things before you do them. Whatever. Shouldn't be too hard.”

Techno rubbed his snout into Phil’s coat, like he wanted to get in it with him, and he sighed. 

“Yeah. Thanks mate.”

“It’s cool. Payment is one baby picture of the blood god though. Send it over when you can.”

Techno was finally,  _ finally _ dressed enough for Phil to be comfortable letting him outside.

He was still in those long socks, but he was also wearing one of Phil’s fancier shirts, just cotton, but it reached below the piglin’s knees. His coat he wore was Phil’s too, a shorter one on Phil but fit Techno fairly well, aside from being long in the arms, and he had a pair of trousers rolled up to his ankles too. He was mostly wearing green, though he wouldn't let go of the golden crown, even with Phil’s insistence to remain incognito. His hooves were bare, or at least the ones which he stood on. He still gripped Phil's hand.

It wasn't worth fighting it though, given the glare Techno had given him when he tried to withdraw it into his coat. 

And Phil had thought the adult-Techno’s glare was menacing. Seeing it on someone at the perfect height to punch his stomach was worse. 

“It’s not too far, okay? It’ll be warmer once we get through the valley,” Phil said, and while it was to Techno it felt like he was talking to himself. 

The piglin’s hoof was warm in his hands, although it was a little hard to tell on account of the mittens Phil had managed to fashion out of a pair of smaller socks, and his own gloves were thick. The day was fairly warm on account of the sun beating down on them, but the clear skies meant that it would be a cold night, even if it didn't snow. 

“Seen any yet?” Phil asked when they were almost through the valley, and he heard a snort from behind him. Whether or not it was one of confirmation or dismissal, Phil wasn't sure, so he looked back at Techno to see where he was looking. 

There wasn't a monkshood in sight, none of the tell-tale blue-purple flowers or green stems, and he knew that reasonably it was still too cold for them to grow. Once they reached further in the valley they might have a chance of finding some, and all he really needed was one. It was the first of three potion ingredients, being used in a similar way to nether wart.

“Nah, thought not.”

Techno snorted again, and his hand tugged Phil’s when the older man tried to move away. Phil looked back. Techno had raised one hoof, pointing up at the side of the valley to a big mound of snow. Nothing was there – no vegetation, rocks or marks in the snow, but Techno was tugging him closer to his side as he stared with his dark, watery eyes at the hillside. 

“Do you want to go up there, mate?”

Techno didn't move, made no other sound, and in silence they looked at the blue-ish landscape as the sun began to fall from its midday crest. A head rose from the snow, and just as quickly, it ducked. The piglin snorted, pointing again. 

Phil looked up at the snow bank, then at the piglin child standing beside him who was using his ferocious gaze as if it would melt the snow and reveal whoever was hiding behind it. He hadn’t got a good enough look to tell exactly who it was, but they had dark hair, and that was enough for Phil to put his defences on. His hand tightened around his sword, and after clearing his throat, he spoke up.

“I saw you,’ he called out, and he heard movement, hushed voices behind the snow. 

He and Techno waited for someone to come forward. He glanced at the piglin by his side, still gripping Phil’s hand as if it was keeping him grounded and under control. Phil thought something over. 

It was probably a bad idea to give a child a knife, but these were the wastelands, and even more in favour of it was the fact that the valley they were in was doing a good job of obscuring the sun. If there were any mobs then Techno would be in trouble. It was also a bad idea to leave the most wanted person on the server defenceless. Silently, Phil handed one of the two knives on his belt over to the child, who grunted instead of thanking him, and he put the knife under his shirt to hide it. 

Tubbo’s head popped over the snow bank.

“Hey Phil, uh,” he said as Ranboo, Quackity and Fundy’s heads popped up too, “Who’s… who’s kid is that?”

“Mine,” Phil said bluntly, and he refused to elaborate at the sight of Tubbo’s raised eyebrow. 

Ranboo was having a staring contest with Techno, which the piglin appeared to be winning. Quackity looked like he wanted to vault over the snow and swoop down at them, talons out. Fundy fell from behind the small outcrop and landed on his face, but Tubbo just stepped over him and took a few steps further into the valley. Techno growled, shuffling so that he was almost completely in front of Phil, with the older man shifting his hand to grip his shoulder. 

“Yours?” Tubbo sounded surprised, “Not Techno’s?”

“No.”

Quackity came around the snow now, obviously no longer holding onto what little fear he had when he realised he wouldn't be gutted if he tried his hand at butchering, but he hesitated when the piglin let out another growl. 

“Aggressive, much?” Fundy said, pulling his face out of the snow, “Are you sure that isn't Techno’s kid? They're so similar.”

“I don't think it’s wise to mess with him either way,” Phil said, then added, “He bites.”

“What, like a dog?” Quackity laughed, and Phil felt Techno’s shoulder move forward when he took a step, and the older man just looked at him.

“More like a lion, but whichever works.”

Ranboo seemed to find his tongue.

“Let’s just get Techno,” he said, quietly enough for Phil to realise he wasn't supposed to hear it, “Phil and his kid don't need to be involved in this.”

But just as Ranboo and Fundy were about to let thoughts that were actually theirs fill their heads (and Phil couldn't help but smirk at the realisation that these people didn't seem to have any motivations of their own), Tubbo put a hand out to stop them from leaving.

“Quackity,” he said, “Grab the kid.”

Quackity took a step forward, Phil raised his sword, Fundy readied his bow, Ranboo took a step back, Tubbo remained where he was. Techno let out a screech of a battle cry and vaulted forward with his knife in hand. Quackity’s eyes went wide as the three-foot-tall piglin came at him with the knife, and Phil didn't hesitate in diving for Tubbo, ignoring the misfired shot from Fundy and the shout of surprise from Ranboo. A scream came from Quackity as he flew a few feet off the ground, not far enough to feel comfortable as Techno struggled with his knife to reach him, but Phil was already at Tubbo. 

“I swear to god,” Phil said through gritted teeth, “I’m going to tell Schlatt about this!”

Tubbo backed towards the hole in the mountain, one which Fundy was being dragged into with his bushy tail and all, but Tubbo wasn't close enough to it to disappear before Phil pinched his ear. 

“Who do you think you are, coming and attacking me and my kid like this?”

“Ahh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 

“And you!” Phil turned and pointed at Quackity, who was clinging to the mounds of snow further up so that Techno couldn't quite reach him, “Why the hell are you listening to him?”

“He’s the president of Manburg!” 

“He’s not the president, he’s a very naughty boy!”

“Let me go!” Tubbo pushed at Phil’s hand, but he still pulled him by the ear so that he couldn't wriggle out of Phil’s grip. 

Phil pointed his sword at Quackity, stating, “I expected better from you,” before he pointed with a finger at Techno and said, “down.”

Techno got down on both hooves again, looking furious that he didn't manage to put his new knife to good use, but Quackity was still too scared to come down from his grappling spot in the snow. Tubbo had his hand on Phil’s wrist, trying to pull his hand away, and Phil did eventually let go. It was just unfortunate for Tubbo that he grabbed his jacket instead. 

“Why did you want to kidnap my child?” Philza asked him, his voice calmer than before but no less threatening, and Tubbo almost whimpered. 

“I thought,” he paused to take a shaky breath, “I thought you and him could be a bargaining tool.”

“To get Techno?”

“Yeah…”

Phil huffed, “Well, Techno isn't here.”

“He isn't?”

“He’s out on… on business. With Dream.”

Tubbo seemed to pause, looking between Phil and the piglin child, before he shrugged and lost all the fight in him. 

“Oh,” he said, “We probably shouldn't bother him then since… well, Dream’s a busy guy.”

Phil sighed and let go of Tubbo’s shoulder, instead going over to Techno and looking down at him, then up at Quackity who was still hanging onto the snow above them, and made a gesture for Techno to follow him. Fundy’s nose was sticking out of the tunnel that he had disappeared into, and he could hear Ranboo asking what was happening, but Techno just followed Phil back into the valley.

“What, that’s it?” Quackity asked, almost shouting, “You’re just going to grab your feral pig and--” 

Quackity probably would have kept shouting, but the snowbank he was holding onto decided to fall and smother him. Techno pointed up with one hoof to the green patch of grass Quackity had accidentally revealed, snorting to get Phil’s attention, and they all turned to look. 

“Huh,” Phil said, “Monkshood. Do you want to go up there and pick it or should I?”


	2. Chapter 2

The door to the house was open, left swinging without a breeze as if someone had just entered or left without considering that they might want to keep the warm air inside. Techno was getting colder by the minute though, his hoof still clutched in Phil’s hand and his ears twitching back and forth as if the movement would heat them through, but it wasn't good either way. There were options, and Phil knew them, but that was _their_ home and he’d be damned if he let someone else barge in without consequences. 

“Techno,” he said, the piglin turning to look at him, “If someone’s in the house I want you to run.”

Techno squinted at him, then reached under his shirt for the knife. 

“I don't care if you have a knife, that could be someone bad, or a creeper or something. I don't want you getting hurt.”

The piglin stomped his hoof, letting out a snort as Phil sighed with his display.

“Okay, you can come with me to see who it is, but seriously, come back here if I give you the word to go, okay?”

They stared at one another, neither backing down, but Phil wasn't afraid to bargain. 

“I’ll give you a golden carrot,” he stated, watching for Techno’s reaction, “Two, then.”

A nod, and with little ceremony they made their way across the wastes to their home. 

The door creaked as the two of them leaned around the corner to see who was inside, but Phil suspected that they had already heard the two of them coming through the plains, since the subtle crunch and squeak of snow was hardly subtle. When he peaked around, he saw the wet marks of someone walking into the house without brushing the snow off their shoes, and some small clumps of snow were continuing to melt when they went inside, looking around, but no one was there. 

“Might just be us,” Phil said, putting the small bag with the monkshood onto the crafting table, “But I’m going to make sure. Don't touch the plant, okay?”

Techno squeaked instead of giving Phil an answer, but the piglin just went over to the panels disguising the beds and clambered in, trying to get warm after their excursion into the wilds. Phil huffed a laugh and went to the ladder, heading down into the layer with all their chests and a couple of spare boats. Nothing down there seemed different, but the ladder had the same half-melted slush that the first floor had, and Phil continued downward to the secret room with the cow and skeleton in it. Techno watched him with concern evident on his little face when Phil went where he couldn't quite reach, and as Phil reached the bottom floor me smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring back up to the piglin before continuing with his investigation. Nothing in there had changed either, but now Phil was looking more keenly at where the footprints had gone, at how they seemed to go near to the cow, then to the left of the ladder. 

He eyed the floor, lifted his foot and stamped it down. 

Yep. Hollow. 

Phil sighed, knowing that he wouldn't like where this was going, but just as he was about to climb back up again in search for a pickaxe, a definitely human squeal came from the first floor. Then a piglin-like roar. 

He probably should have hurried, but either way, Phil grumbled as he made his way back up the ladder and into the main area of the house. 

“Oh,” he said, popping his head over the ledge of the ladder, “Hey Tommy.”

“Phil!” Tommy yelled at him, which was an impressive feat considering Techno was kneeling firmly on his chest, “Please! Your piglin!” 

Phil came out from the hole in the floor, but just as Techno raised the knife to slit Tommy’s throat he grabbed the piglin’s hand. 

“Not inside,” Phil told him, “or else you’ll be helping me clean the floors later.” 

Techno seemed to understand, but he didn't seem happy about it, instead throwing the little knife down so that it was embedded in the floorboards and he stomped off back into the bed, pulling the panelling so that Phil could only see his snout. Phil ignored Tommy and went to close the front door, then pointed to the younger man’s shoes. 

“You’re getting snow all through the house,” he told him. 

“Whatever, you – “

“Tommy.”

They made eye contact, Tommy looked away, then grumbled as he took off his snow and hole filled shoes. 

“Do you have any warmer clothes I could borrow?” Tommy asked, still sitting on the floor.

“Maybe,” Phil said, but he didn't make any moves to go look since Tommy’s head was already in one of the over filled chests. What Phil didn't mention was that most of the clothes were still on the bed from trying to get Techno dressed earlier that day.

“Where are they?”

“On the bed.”

Tommy looked at the pair of eyes peering at him from behind the panelling. 

“O-kay… I’ll do that later,” he decided, then went over to the crafting table, “what’s this?”

“Poisonous.”

Tommy dropped the monkshood like it burnt him. The little purple flower fell back to the crafting table and lay limply on its surface, but Phil came over and took it off him instead. With Techno’s watchful gaze on his back he went over to the brewing stand and ripped a few of the flowers off the stem, shoved them into the top and put three water bottles on the bottom. Now the brewing stand started to bubble, infusing the water with the rich purple of the flowers, and Phil threw the rest of the poisonous plant out the window. 

“Were you in the basement?” Phil asked.

“No!” 

He looked at Tommy. Tommy shifted.

“Alright,” he said, “Yeah, maybe I was, but you and Techno have it so easy! Where is Techno, anyway? Out foraging for truffles? Finding a nice little piglin lady friend?”

Phil snorted. Techno snorted too and pulled the panelling closed, which Tommy felt the need to point at.

“And who’s she? Your new kid? Techno’s new kid?”

“That’s Techno,” Phil said, indicating with a nod of his head. Tommy’s mouth opened and closed, looking between Phil and the hidden bedroom. 

“Why is he so pathetic and small?”

A piglin-like grumble came from the bed. Two black beady eyes carefully watched Tommy, and Tommy carefully considered his next words. 

“He got hit with a potion, don't worry about it, I’m fixing it.”

Phil didn't explain further, instead taking steps towards the chests that Tommy had pulled everything out of and went to find something he’d put in there… at some point. All of them were hoarders, but something about living with Techno brought out the worst in him when it came to keeping everything he found. He heard Tommy rip the knife out of the floorboards.

“Why does he have a knife?” he demanded, “He’s like five, why does he have this?”

“He wanted it,” Phil explained, looking into a murky jar before deciding that wasn't it. 

Tommy made an offended sound, as he often did, and continued, “Did you give him it?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I already said, he wanted it.”

“But Phil, he’s like _five_.”

“Yeah?”

Techno made a noise, and Phil turned to look at him. He was eyeing the knife that Tommy was still holding by the blade, showing it to Phil as if he didn't know it was there, but when the other man somehow managed to read the foreign language written on the walls he pulled it from Tommy’s hand. 

“It’s not yours,” he said, handing it back to Techno, who eagerly squirreled it into the bed, “it’s his.”

The bed was quickly becoming a bit of a nest to Techno, with things like his crown and clothing making up most of it, but also the kitchen cloth, banners off the wall and even some of the cloth-reinforced maps made for putting in frames were making up the bedding now. He even had a couple of leathers, which Phil really hoped came from cows rather than the horse ones from when they were desperate.

“You can't give kids knives, Phil, and I shouldn't have to tell you this,” Tommy tried to lecture him, “what if he gets hurt?”

“Then he’ll learn not to hurt himself,” Phil went back over to the chests, “and besides, I’ve got my eye on him. Worst comes to worst he’ll just cut himself a little.”

“But you’re – Phil, you’re supposed to be the responsible adult, man! Looking after him!”

“If Techno were an adult he wouldn't want me to coddle him.”

“But he’s _not an adult!_ ”

Phil looked up at him, then asked, “Do you want to take care of him?”

He stayed quiet. Phil turned back to the chests again.

“Thought so.”

Tommy looked between Phil and the piglin with the knife, seemingly lost as of what to do now that the only person on the server he thought was sensible turned out to be a terrible parent. That might have been a bit of a harsh statement to make though, since it seemed Techno was quite pleased about having his knife back and it kept him quiet – no teething rusks or jangling keys necessary. 

“Here we are,” Phil said when he pulled his head out of the chest, an ambiguous jar of pink liquid and some solids in hand, “The next ingredient.”

“For what?”

Tommy poked his head over Phil’s shoulder, and despite the older man not being too much shorter than him he loomed like a warning sign to watch what he was doing. 

“What potion is that?”

“A clear-all.”

“Like milk?”

“Yeah, but for these lingering ones. You know how most potions wear off over time?”

Phil watched Tommy’s shadow nod, and then the smaller, piglin shadow that came and stood beside him. He sighed, putting the pair of tweezers into his right hand instead of his left and let Techno slip his hoof into Phil’s palm. He saw Techno’s shadow turn and look at Tommy. 

“I do,” Tommy said, “so this one lasts forever if not cured?”

“Yep, or as long as it would take for him to grow up normally. So, monkshood for the base, pickled ginger for the starter, and then later I'll need to get some warped fungus.”

“You’ve come across this potion before then,” Tommy deducted, and Phil turned to look at him once he pulled some of the pickled ginger out of the jar.

“Yeah, a while ago but…” Phil trailed off when Techno pulled the piece of pickled ginger off the tweezers and ate it, or rather tried to eat it and then spat it out at the taste.

The piglin pulled a face. Tommy pulled a piece of ginger out of the jar too and put it in his mouth, but like Techno, he spat it out a second later. Rolling his eyes, Phil pulled the last piece of ginger out of the jar and put it into the top of the brewing stand, and just as he was about to lock the lid into place, starting the infusion process, a knock came from the door. 

They looked up. The door stayed still. They moved. 

Phil locked the lid in place for the brewing stand, and he got up from where he was crouching beside it. Tommy launched back from where he had been standing, trying not to let out a screech, and he scrambled to get down the ladder on the wall. Techno’s ears twitched back and forth, and as he took a step towards the door Phil’s hand guided him away. 

“Go in here,” he said and brought Techno over to the hidden beds, pulling one of the panels away so that he could get in, but the piglin just looked up at him. 

The door knocked again. Phil looked between it and the child in front of him, and he made a motion with his free hand, a gesture, for Techno to get into the hidden compartment. The piglin blinked. 

“Get in the bed,” Phil said, pushing Techno on his shoulder, “Please, just hide.”

Techno looked away from Phil and towards the window, and when the older man raised his head to take a look he saw the golden carrot on the window sill, just out of Techno’s reach. He grabbed the carrot, threw it on the bed, ignored Techno’s pleased grunt when he scrambled after it and shoved the panelling back into place. Phil took the time to pull off his hat and smooth a few stray hairs back into place, but he wasted no time in moving to the front door of the house and pulled it open. 

In full netherite, smiling mask and axe in hand, Dream stood on the porch of their home in a way Phil could only consider calling ‘falsely menacing’. The brewing stand gurgled just as Phil opened his mouth – to say hello or to tell him to go away, he wasn't sure – but before his voice left his mouth, Dream spoke up.

“Is Tommy here?” he asked.

“Good to see you too, mate,” Phil said, “What brings you out here into the middle of nowhere?”

“Is Tommy here?” Dream shifted, making his armour move and caused a clinking sound, “I need to know.”

“I’m not saying anything until I get a proper hello,” Phil said, already done with the green man making demands.

“Yes, _hello Phil_. Is Tommy here?”

“No, he isn't.”

Dream put his free hand on the doorframe and asked, “do you mind if I checked?”

“I would mind,” Phil closed the door slightly, and Dream had to move his hand or else it would have been crushed, “because I’m busy. Can you come back another time? Maybe tomorrow or something? Or not at all?”

“See, that’s the thing, I _really_ need to look for Tommy.”

Phil heard movement in the house, and he shifted so that he was entirely in the door and it was closed on either side of him, letting Dream see nothing but the spaces over his shoulder and between his legs. The man in the mask didn't seem to notice, or at the very least didn't comment, and Phil answered Dream as casually as he could when he could hear the panelling to the beds being moved. 

“I’m afraid he's not here,” Phil put on a smile, “like I said, and I'm busy in here, too. I’m making potions, don't you know.”

“Is that so?” 

“Yep. Ingredients are everywhere.”

“Tubbo mentioned you looking for ingredients earlier,” Dream said mildly, “a flower or something.”

“Oh, that’s just for decoration. I’m a huge fan of monkshood for their beauty, aren't you?”

“..Right,” Dream took a slight step to his left as if he was trying to get a better look inside, and Phil shifted the door again slightly. 

He could feel a hoof slip into his hand behind the door, and he tried not to flinch at how cold they were. 

“Well, can I wait here while you finish up?” Dream changed tactics, “I’d really like to get this done today.”

“And I’d really like to say yes, but honestly Dream, it’d probably be better for you to go.”

“Tubbo also mentioned you said Techno was coming to talk to me,” Dream said, “and that you had a new kid.”

“Did he not? Come to you I mean.”

Techno was sniffing his hand, as if the lingering smell of the golden carrot was still on his palm, and Phil moved his hand quickly to rest it on the piglin’s head instead. He could hear someone coming up the ladder, perhaps thinking they were being sneaky by listening in, but Phil just pulled his hand off the other door and pointed in the direction of the ladder and hoped Tommy got the message. Both of his hands were hidden to Dream, thank whoever decided that small fact, but he knew he looked like an idiot with only his head, torso and legs visible. Dream didn’t seem to care and only expected an answer. 

“No, he didn’t.”

“Huh,” Phil played it cool as Techno shoved his snout into his hand, “I guess I must have misunderstood him.”

“And the kid?”

“Mine,” Phil said, “I’m baby-sitting.”

“Can I see it?”

“Mate,” Phil sighed, “I’ve already said, I’m potion making. Besides, he’s asleep.”

Dream tilted his head, “It’s pretty interesting for you to have picked up a second piglin child.”

Phil laughed when Techno licked at his hand, putting one of the fingers into his nostril, and he could tell that Tommy hadn’t gone back downstairs yet. 

“Yeah, uh,” he laughed, smoothing his hand over Techno’s head again, “yeah, picking them up left and right, I am. Other than the one I’m baby-sitting.”

“So he _is_ yours?”

Dream said it in a way that meant something, but Phil didn’t really know what Dream was on about, but he just nodded to make it easier. 

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” Dream took a step back, “Techno always insisted that he wasn’t your kid.”

“Wait-“

“I’ll leave you to your potions,” Dream said with a wave of his free hand, “and if you see Tommy will you please let me know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phil didn’t bother trying to correct him now that he was leaving anyway, “What did he do, anyway?”

“He’s just not where he’s supposed to be. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“Bye Phil! I’ll say hi to Techno if I see him.”

And with that Dream turned his back and left, and while Phil was tempted to watch the green man make his way across the white expanse there were better things to do, like yell, or scream, or praise Techno for doing something good, or get mad because he still came out from the hidden compartment when he’d told him not to. He closed the doors, pointed at Tommy, and let Techno take his other hand again.

“You are going to give me a heart attack,” he said, and Tommy put his hands up, fell down the ladder and landed with a yelp. 

“Why me?” Tommy shouted from the bottom of the ladder, and Phil let Techno drag him to the ground for a cuddle. Phil still managed to yell with the seventy-five-kilogram weight lying on his chest, which was actually pretty impressive if not for the fact that Tommy was ignoring it. 

“ _Literally_ the guy hunting you down was at the door and you _still_ came up and almost got both of us in trouble!” 

“It was _fine,_ ” Tommy was standing up now, and Phil could hear as he came up the ladder, “It was under control, and I trusted you completely – “

“And I couldn't trust you, obviously – “

“And you were brilliant! Dream doesn't think that I’m here! And – “ 

“Dream is probably coming back tomorrow, knowing that green schemer, so you’re not out of the woods – “

“And Techno was really good too! He just wanted to be with you! Oh.”

Tommy looked at him from the top of the ladder, at how he was sprawled out over the floor and Techno, separation anxiety and all, leaned heavily on his chest. Phil glanced up at the piglin for the first time since he put him in the beds. 

“Aw, mate,” Phil said, raising his free hand to wipe away one of the tears on Techno’s snout, “What’s wrong? I’m here now, what’s up?”

Techno snuffled into Phil’s shirt, his hooves pinching the fabric tight as he tried to bury himself in it, and Phil put his arms on the piglin’s back in much the same way he had comforted the child the day before, only now the reason was a lot clearer. 

“I won't leave you alone again, okay?” Phil hurried to say, “I promise it was only that time that I needed to, okay? I won't do it again.”

Tommy watched the exchange from the ladder, his hands flat on the floorboards and staying where he was, as if he didn't want to move and potentially disturb the scene in front of him. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, both Phil and Tommy alike, but eventually the younger of the two pulled himself up and made his way over to the figures on the floor. Techno wasn't crying anymore, but Phil still looked guilty. 

“You look terrible,” Tommy told him.

“Cheers, mate.”

“Why are you taking it so badly? He’s gonna need to get over it eventually.”

“Yeah but,” Phil sighed, putting his arms around Techno properly, “Schlatt said to do things at his pace, explain them, and I went and didn't do that and now he’s upset.”

Tommy took a second to process that.

“You talked to Schlatt about parenting?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re listening to him?”

“I haven't exactly got much to go on here,” Phil glared at him, “It’s not like I’ve had kids in the past.”

“You had me! And Wilbur.”

“You were fifteen when I met you, Tommy, and Wilbur is an adult too. This is different.”

Tommy didn't say anything for a moment, trying to figure out in his head how to tell Phil that both he and Wilbur called him ‘dad’ when he wasn't around to question it. Phil rubbed his eyes, still being pinned to the floor by the heavy piglin on his chest.

If Techno continued to imprint this much then figuring out the next ingredient might be a problem, he realised, since the nether was hardly a place for children. He’d been hoping to just leave him here with a few golden items, maybe his own crown and Phil’s coat if it made him happy, and then return after the hour or so it might have taken for him to find a warped mushroom. They grew pretty readily if he cared enough to look in the past, but the problem was _where_. If he found himself somewhere well-travelled, he’d have to go further to get to an unaffected area of land, and if Techno had to come too, and if Dream was coming back tomorrow...

“Tommy,” Phil said and the younger man glanced up, “I think we have a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you noticed Phil being a terrible parent, and yet still managing to parent everyone he meets? Yeah, that accident turned out pretty well...
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Morning couldn't have come sooner.

Techno had assumed his rightful place at Phil’s side, but with nowhere else for Tommy to sleep it meant that the three of them were sharing the two beds, and as Phil soon realised, when Techno was a kid he did not take kindly to others sharing him. 

Phil ended up in the middle with Tommy on his left and Techno on his right, and even still they somehow managed to get into a fight over who deserved to throw their unwanted arm over Phil’s face. 

Needless to say, he hadn't slept too well that night, but he’d take any amount of bad sleep over Tommy trying and failing to make a plan about how they were going to tackle the day ahead of them.

“Okay, we need a plan,” Tommy said, ignoring Phil’s carefully thought out, considered, and already discussed plan. 

“I had one,” Phil said, “where you go to the nether.”

“I’m not allowed in the nether.”

“You’re not allowed here either but that didn’t stop you before.”

Tommy paced from one side of the room to the other, totalling a distance of around three feet, before he turned back and went to the other wall. Phil watched from where he was sat on the bed, the panelling pushed out the way so that his feet could stay on the floor, and Techno had his chest and head in his lap. It was a bit like owning an overly large dog, only heavier and far more loyal, if that was possible. 

“Look, Phil,” Tommy said, “I can’t go. If Dream finds me he’ll kill me, and I can’t stay if you go because Techno will kill me instead, which is far worse because he’ll probably eat me.”

At the mention of his name Techno looked over to Tommy and stared, his ears pulled back from his face in a way Phil could only call apprehensive, but apparently Tommy thought meant violence. He clambered on top of the chests on the far wall. Techno curled in on Phil again, and the man put a hand on the piglin’s shoulder in a way he hoped was comforting. 

“Techno can’t go to the nether,” Phil said, “You’ve seen the way child piglins cling to their parents, right? If they stray over to one that isn’t their parent then the adults get violent. I don’t want to drag Techno into that.”

“Oh as if he’d leave your side. He’s closer to you than he is to potatoes and we all know how much he likes those. More than me, if you can believe it.” 

“I can.”

“And,” Tommy declared, “What’s all this about you caring for Techno’s safety all of a sudden? He still has a knife!”

“He’s cut himself less on it than you have,” Phil said mildly.

Phil ignored Tommy’s no doubt cutting response (if a knife made of wood could cut), but he thought a little more on the matter. The facts were simple. Tommy wasn’t supposed to be there, and he wasn’t supposed to be in the nether, either. If he was caught in the nether by someone he’d be either killed or hunted, becoming stranded or leading the hunters back to Phil and Techno’s home in the process, and if Tommy couldn’t find the warped fungus or didn’t make it back with it at all then Phil would have to go out anyway. There was also the problem of Dream promising to come back at some point that day to have a look around specifically for Tommy, which, needless to say, was very bad indeed. 

Yet, if Phil were to go to the nether, with or without Techno, then Tommy would be left in the house alone. Again, if Dream showed up, Tommy would have to hide out of sight. If Phil left Techno behind like he wanted to, the piglin would no doubt get upset and cry again. There was no winning. 

Unless…

“Tommy,” Phil said, snapping the younger man out of his ramble.

“huh?”

“Put this on.”

Phil started taking off his heavy green coat before he handed it over to Tommy, then took off his hat and handed it to him as well. Tommy, without prompt (and probably to be intentionally annoying), put the coat and hat on. Techno woke up, blinked, looked at Phil and pulled his hooves back. With a snort, Techno looked between Phil and Tommy, who was still admiring ‘his’ new coat, before he got off the bed and wondered over to Tommy on the other side of the room. 

Tommy dodged Techno’s reaching hoof with a yelp, and Techno reached again. Phil watched them lead one another around the room, sitting on the bed in his jumper, trousers and gloves, and he laughed. 

“Okay,” Phil said, “I have a new plan.”

“I don’t like this already,” Tommy told Phil as Techno clung to ‘his’ new coat, “I don’t like this at all.”

Other than being double his age, Phil thought he looked alright in Tommy’s dirty shirt and Techno’s blue coat, even if they were a little short on him (in the case of the shirt) and heavy (in the case of the coat). 

Tommy didn’t look half bad either, with his quiff of hair tamed and downtrodden and Phil’s jumper a little too big on him, but so long as he could do the voice he made a pretty close resemblance to the older man, other than the frown. 

“Chin up,” Phil said, “You did say that you wanted some new clothes.”

“New, Phil,” Tommy said with Techno’s hoof in his hand, “not yours.”

“You look fine,” Phil told him and went to pick up his bag of tools, before he headed over to the chest for supplies.

Techno was looking between them like he didn’t know what to think, like he thought Tommy was Phil but also that Phil was still Phil. So where did Tommy go? Phil smelt like Tommy, but definitely wasn’t, and Tommy smelt like Phil, but also wasn’t. His hoof shifted in Tommy’s hand.

“I’ve got my remote radio,” Phil said, slipping it into his ear, “and the one on the table is attuned to it, you’ll just need to speak to Eret to get a connection through to me.”

“God, table-top radio,” Tommy said with a roll of his eyes, “how old are you?”

“Old enough to tell you to shut up. I’ll hopefully be back before Dream gets here. If he comes when I’m still in the nether tell me and then pretend to be asleep or something.”

“I want to one-up him,” Tommy said, “I’ll pretend to be you, I’ll tell him to get off my lawn.”

“The lawn is covered in snow,” Phil said, pulling his readied bag onto his back, “and don’t cause trouble. You’re re-imbursing me for everything you break.”

“I’m not going to break anything,” Tommy said with Techno’s hoof in his, “and you’re not going to charge me either.”

“It’s three gold per night here.”

“Do you take I.O.U.s?”

The nether sucked.

There was no other way to put it. On a server so populated and so heavily used, the nether became a dumping ground of ender chests, stray blocks and bridges to nowhere, and even as far out of the way as Phil and Techno’s house was, there was still evidence of other people being around the area that the portal was hidden in. Phil ditched his coat upon entry, for while the nether was dry it didn’t lack anything in heat, even if Phil wasn’t feeling it so close to the portal out. The coat would be a nice reminder that it was cold before going back through the portal, however, and a marker to show he had been there if someone came looking. They might think it was Techno, he supposed, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that.

Tommy’s shirt had holes in it too, which Phil put his thumb through as he looked around the entrance to the cave the portal was in, but without seeing anyone he edged his way out and into the nether wastes. His feet sweated in his golden shoes. 

It was just a normal nether trip, aside from him wearing Tommy’s shirt, but even then you could hardly see it beneath the armour. The wastes he entered were wide and with a fairly low roof, picked free of glowstone and gold, but with a few quartz deposits remaining in the floor. There was a bridge, stretching out in the distance and trailing along the ceiling, but it stopped in the middle of nowhere – no doubt where someone had fallen. The smell of sulphur and ash in the air was strong, mixed with the heady smell of decay from the nearby crimson forest, and while Phil knew that the easiest place to get the warped mushrooms was in the warped forest over a thousand blocks away, he made his way towards the crimson forest, hoping that one or two stray warped fungus poked their way out of the earth. The last time he went there, hoglins protected any way he could see inside, so it was worth checking before he made the trek out to the warped forest. 

Tommy sat on the only stool in the house, Phil’s coat wrapped around him and feeling pretty warm as Techno decided whether or not it would be a good idea to kill him. 

The piglin child was watching him from a couple of feet away, eyes narrowed and with his knife thankfully hidden under his shirt, but the fact that he still had it was worrying enough. Phil hadn't taken it away, partly because he hadn't tried and partly because Techno wouldn't let him get close with Tommy’s shirt on him, but in the end it hadn't really mattered too much to the older man. If anything, Techno’s aversion to strangers was a positive. 

“So why  _ don't _ you talk?” Tommy asked for lack of anything better to say, and Techno looked at him.

When the piglin turned his head his ears swung in front of his eyes, and if Tommy didn't know better he’d call it cute. Techno didn't respond though, too busy side-eyeing him. 

“You can understand me, right? Like, you can nod your head if you were to say ‘yes’.”

A pause. A slight nod from Techno.

Even though he was probably about five years old, it was hard to tell why exactly he didn't speak. He could snort, make other noises and understand them, but when it came to actual communication the piglin was useless. 

“So why can't you talk?”

Since he wasn't given a yes or no answer, Techno just stared at him. 

But then Tommy heard shoes crunching on snow, the sound of someone coming up the steps, and finally a knock on the door. He stared at Techno, who stared back, before the piglin went to grab his knife from the bed. Tommy tried to stand but found himself weak. He couldn't just ignore it – Phil had agreed to meet with Dream, and Dream wasn't someone to go away when it seemed like no one was home. 

He took a deep breath, looking over to where Techno had situated himself in the corner with the knife, and then stood up to answer the door. 

“Oh, uh, hey Dream!”

Tommy tried to be chipper, but not too much, and he realised in that moment that he probably should have tried to put on an accent or deepened his voice or something, since Dream had been looking away and his mask snapped to attention when he spoke up. The man’s face was impossible to read, and Tommy took care to keep the door closed slightly to stop the angry piglin child from rushing through with his knife.

“Hi Phil,” Dream said, and it sounded like he was putting it on to please him, “Is Tommy here?”

“Nope,” Tommy decided against putting on a voice since he’d already spoken, “Just me and the kid.”

“So you’re okay with me coming in, right?” Dream sounded sarcastic, “Not going to send me off with the cheap excuse of potion brewing this time?”

“Nope,” Tommy said, kicking the door open.

When he did however, his leg stayed out over the threshold, at knee height. Dream’s mask looked at his leg, then to Tommy, and just as he was about to say something a piglin child with a knife rammed into his leg and squealed. Dream stepped back in shock, but Tommy just tried to act as natural as possible as he pulled Techno by his shirt back into the house. It wasn't easy – he was three feet of pure anger and muscle – but eventually he was sitting beside the radio with the piglin desperately trying to claw to the front door.

“Uh,” Dream said, “That’s your new kid?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you sure that’s not Techno’s kid, Phil?”

“What makes you say that?”

Tommy said it around a strained laugh, and Techno’s sharp little hooves dug into his leg as he tried to get to the green man. Dream just tilted his head at the piglin, then looked at Tommy who shrunk back at the mask’s sharp gaze.

“No reason,” Dream said, “How about you keep her under control while I look around? You don't need to come with, seeing as you obviously have no one – I mean. Nothing to hide.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep this one under control,” Tommy said, “and he’s, well, he’s a he.”

“The piglin?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks female to me,” Dream said, gesturing with a limp hand at Techno and the piglin growled, “the ears – I’m surprised you don't know this, actually – If the ears are floppy like that it usually means they're female.”

Tommy looked at the seething piglin, at how he was somewhere between crying and flaying Dream alive, and he hesitantly put an arm around him. Dream just ignored them and went over to the chests. He didn't check through their contents, only dragged them off their pile and looked inside to make sure no one (or rather, Tommy) was in them, and then left them for Tommy (or rather, Phil) to put back later. As he moved around the room Techno seemed to lose all fight in him and instead tucked himself between Tommy, who was sitting on the stool near the radio, and the wall. Dream left the front door open. 

“You know, Phil,” Dream said as he inspected the brewing stand, still filled with the potions Phil had been brewing earlier, and Tommy tried not to sweat as he picked it up, “I wanted to ask your advice about something.”

“Y-yeah?” Tommy tried not to hesitate. 

“It’s a bit… sensitive. I’d appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone.”

“Yeah, no, king of keeping secrets, me. What did you want to ask?”

“Well, you know how you’re like, I don't know, the ‘dad’ of the server? It’s that kind of advice, if you get me.”

Tommy tried not to squirm as Dream’s mask turned to him. The green man took a heavy seat on one of the boxes beside the brewing stand. Tommy just hummed in response and wished Dream would hurry up.

“I, uh, I wanted to ask your advice about George, actually.”

Tommy had a million thoughts fly through his head, unintelligible. 

“Uh-huh…?”

Dream sighed. Tommy shifted. Techno rubbed his hand over the knife. 

“Well, I guess I’ll just ask straight up since I think you’ll know better than anyone else, Phil. How do I ask someone out?”

Tommy paused. He thought long and hard and rejected any of the thoughts that came fourth. Ultimately, he had one option and he asked himself; what would Philza do?

“Fuck  _ off _ , George!” Phil shouted, pulling himself further up the crimson vines as George tried to poke him, “I just need a warped fungus and I’ll be gone! Poof! You don't need to pester me!”

George scowled at him, his mouth small as he pulled it tight and debated what to do about the man in the tree, too far up to poke with his sword. Behind his glasses, Phil could hardly see his eyes, but without a doubt in his mind he could see the rusty cogs starting to turn as George tried to figure out how to climb a tree. It wasn't exactly hard, but then again, George always did seem to find a way to make simple tasks more difficult. 

“Dream was looking for you, Tommy,” George said, looking up at him, “It’s not like I’m about to let you go.”

“Would you do anything Dream said?” Phil asked, looking down at him from the tree, “Would you spawn a Wither in your own house? Would you kill Sapnap?”

“I’m sure Dream would have reasons for asking me to do that,” George defended. 

The next swipe of his sword cut the vines below where Phil clung to, and the older man would fall a good three metres or so before hitting the ground. Then again, cutting the vines also meant George couldn't get to him, so the man’s solutions to getting at Phil had just become harder than they needed to be. If Phil’s arms were not getting so tired from clinging to the remaining vines, he might have laughed or stuck his tongue out, but as it stood he just wanted George to go away. Were there even original thoughts behind those glasses? Probably, but it was honestly hard to tell sometimes. 

“Will you go away?” Phil asked from the tree, “Don't you have better things to do? Things to destroy?”

“I need to bring you to Dream,” George said, “He was looking for you.”

There was obviously something going on here, Phil realised. George was someone to give up the ghost if he knew it was more work than it was worth, and while his ‘man-hunts’ (whatever those were. Understanding euphemisms was never Phil’s strong suit) that he went on were no doubt difficult, there was the promise of a rewarding end if he caught up. Usually he was less interested in stuff that didn't have an obvious end goal.

Unless…

“Hey,” Phil shouted, already feeling like an asshole, “Dream won't like you if you bring me in, you know.”

George looked up at him, taken aback. 

“Huh?”

“He won't like you, or love you, whichever. He won't. He’ll just take me and do… something. Probably imprison me or exile me again, and he won't give you a second glance. Sad, huh?”

George adjusted his footing, glaring at him up in the tree as he pointed his sword at him. 

“Dream isn't interested in you like he is in me,” George said, but his brave face failed when Phil scoffed. 

“Yeah, he sure isn't,” Phil shouted down at him, “He’s more interested in finding me than he is in spending time with you! He probably doesn't even like you!” 

George had his mouth open in disbelief now, staring up at Phil as if he was revealing some grand truth about the universe, or at least as if he was trying to confuse him by asking some simple maths questions. George wasn't dumb, he was just… blindsided, sometimes, and Phil took full advantage. 

“Yeah, it’s obvious he doesn't care as much about you as he does me,” Phil said, letting go with one hand to gesture dramatically to the crimson forest surrounding them, “because if he cared about you he’d be with you.”

“He’s a busy guy.”

It sounded weak to Phil’s ears, and with aching hands from gripping the vines he knew he was finally getting somewhere with this act he was putting on. George was nearly ready to hear Phil's offer.

“He’s too busy with other people to be with you,” Phil said, and he felt like a dick when George’s face crumbled, btu sometimes your hand is forced. 

George took a step back from the base of the tree, then another one, and before the other man could talk he spoke up.

“If Dream really loved you he’d let you bring him to me,” Phil said, “If he really loved you he’d kiss away your tears, and I’m being real here, he’d never do that. He’d see you cry and he’d not even ask what was wrong. He’d look the other way.”

“He’d care!” George shouted at him, and yep, the tears Phil had been looking for were there, “He’d care enough to come here, and he’d care enough to – to ask me what’s wrong!”

“Then go get him, prove me right when he doesn't even look at you, or prove you right when he finally finds his balls and asks you out!” Phil shouted at him, “Go get him! I’ll wait here!”

“Tommy, you are such a – ugh!” 

George wiped his face with his sleeve as he dashed off into the forest, and Phil held his breath for thirty seconds, listening to the sounds of the nether to see if he’d have any more unwelcome visitors before he breathed a sigh of relief. No more human-made noises. Now all he had to do was keep an eye out for a warped mushroom and see if Tommy had radioed him if Dream arrived prematurely.

Dream wasn't leaving the room, Tommy couldn't tell Phil that Dream was there, and worst of all, Techno was getting fussy. 

“It’s just, ugh,” Dream said, content to be in his own head as Techno tried to decide if Tommy was Phil or if he was Tommy, and subsequently, if he should stab Tommy, “George is so hard to read. He’s impossible. I keep trying to work up the nerve to ask him but he never seems to let me.”

“I think,” Tommy said, trying to think about how Phil would work through this, “you should just tell him.”

“But there’s never a good opportunity.”

“I know,” Tommy eyed Techno’s knife as the piglin tried to bury himself in Tommy’s, Phil’s, coat, “But you just gotta tell him. It’s not like we have forever, and considering how busy you’ve been looking for me– I mean, Tommy, then he might be getting the wrong impression.”

“How so?”

“Do you spend time with him? Like, not here?” Tommy asked, “Do you just talk anymore? Maybe you should spend time with him, away from here. Without me.”

“Yeah but  _ how,  _ Phil?” Dream sighed like a love sick idiot, “There’s no way I can without words and I suck at that.”

Tommy blurted the first thing he thought of in a very un-Phil-like move. 

“Kiss him,” he said, and cringed at the way Dream’s mask snapped to him, seeing without eyes. 

Techno buried his snout under Tommy's armpit and wrapped himself further in the coat like a cat trying to hide from the light, and he could feel the piglin’s sharp little hooves digging into his back. Dream shifted on the crate so that he could look at Tommy more fully, and he felt himself shrink under the green man’s invisible gaze.

“What?” Dream asked, “That’ll end  _ so _ badly.”

“No, but, like, Dream, you should – “ Tommy took a breath, “If you find him when he’s crying, kiss his tears away. It’s, like, romantic and shi– “ Phil probably wouldn't swear, “stuff.” 

Dream’s mask looked at him and Tommy shifted. Techno snorted in his coat and peaked out at Dream, his floppy ears and all. 

“I mean,” Dream sounded awkward, “What if he’s not into it.”

“Then say sorry,” Tommy shrugged for lack of anything better to say, “and leave him alone, I guess.”

Dream leaned back on the box he sat on, and even though Techno was becoming restless and tried to chew Tommy’s hand off a bit with his developing tusks, he watched as the emotions, thoughts, went over the other man’s face. It was impossible to see, and yet Tommy could almost imagine music playing in the background of his mind as he thought it over. The pause lasted a minute maybe at most, but with the awkwardness and Techno’s insistent chewing, it felt like a lifetime before Dream finally spoke up. 

“Well,” he said, “I’ve heard worse ideas, Phil. You really are the dad of the server with your advice, you know that?”

Tommy chuckled awkwardly, feeling Techno suckle on his now bleeding finger, “Yeah, don't I know it.”

Phil hadn't had a radio message to say that Dream had arrived, and with the nether sweating every last piece of his willpower to stay out of him, he went through the portal and out to the frozen wasteland on the other side. Techno’s, his, blue coat was heavy on his shoulders but a welcome addition considering the cold. The warped mushroom smelt funny in his hand, like a mixture of soured milk and old cheese, but it was the smell of victory – even if he managed to get some of the smell on Tommy’s shirt in the process of collecting it. It wasn't his fault, since George had chased him up the tree, but hopefully Tommy wouldn't whine about it. 

Only problem was, walking through that portal to the overworld, was coming face to face with a problem. 

Dream was facing Tommy at the door to their home, with Techno looking out over the landscape and the younger man obviously uncomfortable, but now that Phil was there, dressed in Tommy’s clothes, alarm bells were ringing in his head. He slipped behind the frame of the portal as a temporary disguise, but when he looked around at what he could hide behind, all he saw was the frozen river and the few, cut reeds along its banks. The treeline was easily five-hundred metres away, and with nowhere else to go, Phil hoped and prayed Tommy either brought Dream away from the house or found an invisibility potion to throw. 

The flash of red near the portal caught Tommy’s eye, and just as quickly as he had seen it, he forced his eyes back to Dream to not give away that he’d seen Phil. Techno was still furious at someone else, Dream, being near his home, and yet when Tommy grabbed his hoof to try and hold him back, Techno actually listened. The power that Phil’s coat held was more than Tommy had realised, it seemed. 

“And, ugh, yeah,” Dream was saying, “I just really didn't know how to tell him, you know? I appreciate your help, man.”

“It’s cool!” Tommy said, his eyes sliding over to Phil as he ducked behind the portal, “Yeah, it’s cool. Are you going through the nether to get home or – ?”

“Yeah, George was in there, last I checked, so I’ll just be…”

Dream pointed over his shoulder at the portal without really looking, and Techno seemed to understand. Or at least, that’s what Tommy thought Techno was doing when he let go of his hand and took a couple of steps over to Dream. 

“Are you saying bye to Dream?” Tommy asked, and he couldn't tell if he wanted the piglin to put his knife to use or not. 

“Hey little guy,” Dream said, crouching down to be on the same level as him, “What are you up to?”

But Techno only stopped beside Dream, and without a word, he pointed to the portal. 

“You want me to go?” Dream asked.

Techno just nodded, looking over at him with a look Tommy had only seen on his face when the adult-Techno was done with his antics, and he struggled not to laugh as Dream sighed. 

“Alright,” he said, standing, “I guess I'll get going then. Oh, and Phil.”

Tommy looked at him, and he hoped he didn't look desperate to get rid of him. 

“Yeah?” He asked. 

“What’s your kid’s name?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah this is…”

Tommy looked down at Techno, who stared back at him with his big, dark eyes. 

“This is Wart.”

“Well,” Dream said as he turned around, “There are worse names.”

Tommy didn't respond, too busy trying to avoid the knife that aimed for his ribs.

“I’ll be off now. See you later, Phil!”

Dream walked off, leaving Tommy to his demise at the hands of Technoblade, and he made his way over the snow and towards the portal without a fault in his step. His stride was easy, thoughts unhindered, and as he came to the portal he didn't hear the desperate scramble of Phil climbing up on top of the portal. Dream waved at Tommy, or rather the figure of Tommy running away from Techno across the land, and disappeared into the swirling mix. 

Phil fell down into the snow, face first and with a groan. He was getting sick and tired of climbing things to escape overzealous men with swords. 

“Okay,” he said, picking himself up and out of the snow, “Not much longer.”

He gripped the warped fungus in his hand as he made his way over to the house, ignoring the ache in his hands from the climbing and the cold, and he approached Tommy just as he was about to run past.

“Okay,” Phil said, more than aware of how he looked, “I got it. We can sort this out now.”

“Phil!” 

“Yes, hello Tommy.”

“Phil, Techno is going to kill me!”

“Don't get blood on my coat, Techno.”

He heard a snort in response and ignored the rest of the commotion as he went inside the brew the clear-all potion. It didn't actually look like Dream had done a proper search, really, with the panelling still in front of the hidden beds and a few chests removed from the stack on the far wall, as if searching for Tommy was really just a front for something else. He didn't pay attention to it though, instead just going over to the brewing stand to put the warped fungus inside and snapped the lid closed. With a heavy sigh, Phill pulled off the netherrack stained shirt of Tommy’s and dumped it in a pile, before he went over to the small clothes chest in the corner to try and find a shirt that wouldn't have blood stains on it at the end of the day. 

Might be difficult, he thought, considering Tommy’s rapid-fire apologies to Techno coming from outside. 

“What did you even say to him?” Phil asked when the potion was done, coming to sit out on the steps as Techno growled and sat on Tommy. 

“Nothing!” Tommy shouted, “I’m innocent! I even look like you, I don't know why he started attacking me.”

“Did he realise you weren’t me?”

“I didn't do anything to give him that opinion. He was upset with Dream at one point and came to me to be, I don't know, coddled or something, and then this! He lost his mind!”

Phil just sighed and he reached forward to grab his hat from Tommy’s head. He shoved it on top of his unruly mop of hair and as soon as he did, Techno left Tommy’s chest and came over to Phil to sit on his instead.

“Yeah,” Phil said with a groan as Techno cuddled up to him, “I missed you too.”

But as Techno settled down, Phil uncorked the clear-all potion and shoved it into the piglin’s snout. As the child retched, he kicked and squealed and tried to force Phil’s hand away, but with as much strength as he could muster, Phil held the potion steady and Techno had no choice but to drink it. 

“That’s not the right way to give a kid medicine, Phil!” Tommy seemed shocked as he said it, but he went silent at the glare Phil sent his way. He knew the question the older man was asking, or demanding he respond to, and he stayed quiet as Techno finished up the horrible-looking blue potion. 

When the bottle was empty Phil took it from Techno and the piglin scrambled away, past Tommy, and around the side of the house to where the horse pen was. He could hear the piglin sniffling again like he did when he first came across Techno like this, but instead of going to comfort him, he knew Techno would come back and probably thank him. In silence, Tommy looked after where Techno had gone and waited for a moment before turning back to Phil. 

“How’d you know the antidote, anyway?” Tommy asked, “You said you had something like this happen before, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Phil said, not pulling his chin from his hand, “I got hit with one, but it was a different potion, one that made me a baby instead of a kid. There’s a different recipe for that one, but it made me brush up on the other potions, too. I’m just glad it wasn't someone like you or Tubbo looking after me.”

“Aww, Phil,” Tommy whined, “Would I not make a  _ great _ dad?”

“No, no. No, no, no. You’d be awful, are you kidding me?” Phil stood up and walked around Tommy, “Tommy, you might have done well here but would you know how to take care of a kid?”

“No, but do you?”

“No!”

“You had Techno,” Tommy said and turned away, before he finally stood up from the snow angel he had been making and shucked off Phil’s coat. “Yours,” Tommy said, letting him take it.

“Thanks. And hey, no blood. Wonderful.”

“Ugh.”

It came from the stables around the front of the house, and while Tommy stepped forward to go and greet him, Phil grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

“Let me do this,” Phil said, and stepped around the corner. 

He stepped back again almost immediately. 

“Yep. Clothes. Hang on.”

“How long was I… a kid?” Techno asked, the cup of warm water and lemon in his hands doing wonders to heat through his hooves. 

“Two nights, three days,” Phil answered as he handed Tommy a cup too, “You didn't say a word, and it made it easier for me to pretend you were not, you know,  _ you _ .”

Techno didn't say anything, too busy looking down at the lemon floating around in his cup to answer, but when he did he looked over at Tommy. 

“And you looked after me as well?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Phil, how am I alive?”

“I don't know, Techno,” Phil said with a laugh as he sat on the crate in the corner, “I really don't.”

“Well, okay,” Techno put his head in his hands, floppy ears and all, “Hooray for surviving and all that.”

“Do you remember it at all?” Phil asked, “Anything about who you saw, what I said? I’m just curious.”

“I remember you calling me a wart,” Techno said and pointed at Tommy, “and I remember… basically everything.”

Techno looked away as he said it, his cheeks and snout darkening at the memory of clinging to Phil’s hand like it would stop him from floating away, and while Tommy looked between them like he was trying to read an unknown language, Phil seemed to understand. 

“Ah, right,” he said, “Sorry if me calling you my son was too far but – “

“It worked, it’s fine,” Techno said with a wave of his hoof, “it’s a good tactic. Don't worry about it. We don't need to bring it up again.”

Tommy started laughing, but both Phil and Techno ignored him until he spoke up.

“You’re just embarrassed because you enjoyed it!” 

Techno snorted, turning to him with fury in his eyes at the accusation. Tommy shrunk back slightly, and he looked smaller than usual since he was still wearing Phil’s shirt, but Techno didn't seem to care. 

“No,” he said, indignant, “I didn't. I was like  _ five _ , Tommy. I was with Phil for the tactical advantage.”

“As if you needed help, you were bloodthirsty even then,” Phil said with a knowing smile, “and besides, what tactical advantage did you get from holding my hand?”

Techno’s ears pressed back against his head as Tommy cackled, but all he did was stand up and grab the laughing man, pulling him outside. Phil couldn't help but laugh as they went outside the house, and as the doors closed behind them the laughter got quieter, even if it didn't stop. Tommy smirked at him, as if he had anything to be pleased about. 

“Okay,” Techno said when he dropped Tommy into the snow outside, “What do you want that’ll keep you quiet?”

“Let me live here,” Tommy demanded. 

“No.”

“Guess I’ll tell everyone, then.”

Techno sighed, “Look, Tommy. You don't get anything from being here.”

“I get to not be with Dream and I get to be with you and Phil,” he argued, and Techno could hear Phil going down into the basement, probably to put away the other two potions or to clean up after Techno’s chaos. 

“But Tommy,” Techno said, “Wouldn't you rather have netherite? Or Diamonds? I can get you a perfect horse or an army of dogs who are loyal to you, do you really just want to live in my cramped house? With me and Phil and a thousand other things?”

Tommy seemed to think about it. He thought long and hard about the possibility of just making his own house somewhere nearby, about making another cobblestone tower, about being close enough to see them but not actually stepping on their toes, and he eventually seemed to come to his senses and tell Techno his answer. 

“Naw. I wanna live here.”

“You’re impossible,” Techno told him, and Tommy grinned. 

But just as Techno was about to say something else, an insult or maybe he was just going to hit him, a crash came from inside the house. Well, it wasn't so much a crash as much as it was a pop, like that of a potion bottle breaking or a red stone lamp deciding to give up, and Techno and Tommy looked at one another.

They went into the house, down the ladder, and into the basement with all the chests. Techno arrived first, sword in hand, and the white witch looked up at him in surprise. It must have snuck in, but Techno didn't think about it before he stabbed at the witch, and as it burst into smoke and a couple of pieces of red stone, Tommy came down the ladder too. 

“Oh, great,” Tommy said, looking down at the bundle of cloth that Phil had been wearing before, “Oh this is terrible. This is the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I don't want to stay here anymore, Techno. You can deal with this alone.”

Techno didn't say anything, but the baby, probably about six-months-old, stared up at them with big, blue eyes. When Techno lowered the sword, the baby put its arms up at him, wanting to be held.

“Goo,” Phil said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This last chapter was a challenge because I had so much I wanted to include but had no idea how to, so I just kinda... rushed lol. Most of this was written either last night or this morning, so again, if you noticed any mistakes please let me know.
> 
> I've really enjoyed not writing a shipping fic, so even though there's some implied stuff going on with Dream and George, I figured it was subtle enough for people who aren't into it to skip over. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments are my favourite snack :)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this first chapter in like one day, so if there are a few flaws, please let me know and I'll fix them.
> 
> Let me know what you think of this too! I know it's a little different from a lot of the stuff I put out there but I wanted to write it because, if you cant tell, Phil and Techno are my favourites. 
> 
> This is based on a post of mine I made here: https://turtle-ier.tumblr.com/post/638782038423601153/im-thinking-of-the-chaos-of-phil-needing-to-take
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: @turtle-ier  
> Find me on Twitter: @Turtle_ier


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